Bacchanalia AKA Finding Harry Potter's True Love
by PhantomTigre
Summary: George and Luna enlist Harry to help them find the Resurrection Stone, unfortunately Harry ends up triggering an enchantment that only his true love can break. Is it Hermione, Ginny, or someone else? Slash f/f and m/m.
1. The Boy With Half a Soul

George Weasley wanted to hate Harry Potter. It was midway through the summer after the Battle of Hogwarts and the heat was starting to stifle him. He spent long afternoons laying in a hammock under the trees off a ways from the Burrow, trying to figure out how to survive in a world where someone named Fred Weasley did not exist. It was like a critical part of his identity had been removed, who was George with the words "Fred and" to go before his name? The bond between twins was something that anyone who was not a twin could not understand. Perhaps someone with a very close sibling, perhaps someone who knew what it was like to share a life with another for 19 years... maybe they could come a little close to understanding.

He wouldn't admit it to the rest of his family but the two of them always knew that the other was the most important person in their lives, that the death of his twin would be the most devastating thing to happen, worse than the loss of parent, girlfriend, or sibling. While some twins purposely expanded on their differences, worked hard to become their own separate individuals, Fred and George had embraced their identical existence. Not only embraced it, but took advantage of it. Who better to critique your ideas than someone with a brain identical to yours, someone whose brain knows exactly what you're thinking and understands you perfectly but is not quite inside your head and is there always able to examine your actions from an outside perspective? This was an advantage that he and Fred were both well aware of, they couldn't imagine having to slog through life alone without a clone of your brain to bounce inventions, jokes, and homework papers off. In fact, George still caught himself thinking and speaking 'we' instead of 'I'.

Was it possible to feel more alone? Was this how normal people always felt? Always alone in your mind, the only one who existed in your head, only ever able to touch others through external communication...

George wanted to hate Harry, the boy who lived, the boy who defeated the dark lord, the boy who was for a short period of time, the Master of Death. Harry who had possessed the Ressurection Stone.

The stone that had let Harry find a few last words for the loved ones in his life that had passed away, loved ones he had hardly known. Loved ones that he hadn't spent 19 years being close to.

George sighed and once again moved his hand up to the empty hole where his ear had used to be feeling the frustration burn through him; all he really wanted was a chance to say goodbye.

"You know, he's not gone, not really," Luna's voice rose up quietly, a faint tinkling that almost blended in with the whisper of the wind through the leaves.

"How did you know I was thinking of him?" George asked turning his head to look at the girl who was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest as she leaned back against a tree a short distance away from the hammock.

"You always touch your ear when you're feeling his loss," Luna explained simply.

"I was thinking of Harry Potter," George told her, furrowing his eyebrows and letting his hand drop to touch the ground beneath the hammock.

"He's not gone the way your ear is," Luna pressed tucking a strand of her whispy blonde hair back behind an ear.

George huffed, trying to decide whether or not to be annoyed by her presence. They'd taken to bumping into each other in this stretch of woods that ran between their houses. He'd never realized that their wizarding neighbors were quite that close. Then again he'd never really known Luna until that final battle.

"I just wish Harry would have thought that maybe there were other people who lost something, other people who could have benefitted from that stone," George said, "I wouldn't have lost myself to it, all I wanted was to say goodbye."

"Mmm," Luna agreed half-heartedly.

"I just want to say good-bye!" George had yelled, half drunk from the fire whiskey shots he'd shared with Ginny and his brothers during the festivities that lasted a full day, beginning the dawn after Voldemort's death and proceeding all through the night until everyone one by one lost themselves to sleep in the woods and meadows surrounding Hogwarts.

Harry had looked at him awkwardly and sympathetically and George felt wretched at himself for being so drunk, for losing it like this to the hero, Harry Potter, who didn't even have the sympathy to be drunk as well.

"Just tell me where it is! TELL ME!" he'd cried out, pleaded, collapsing to his knees onto the ground before Harry. Hermione and Ginny had been sitting on the log behind Harry, but their glasses of wine were untouched as they'd watched, unspeaking. Perhaps they hadn't known how to react.

George had managed to celebrate at first, he'd spent the first night crying with his family wrapped around him, with his parents and the rest of his siblings, with the rest of the students and families of Britain as they'd one by one buried the dead and put them to rest alongside Dumbledore. The next morning they'd all pulled themselves together and lost themselves in the celebrations, the House Elves were providing an endless supply of wines and Firewhiskey, plates of fruit, crackers, and cheese floated about, and a group of fifth years that had apparently started a band had summoned their instruments and struck up some lively renaissance jigs. But then, with the sun setting, with the wine swirling his thoughts the only thing he could feel was the loss of his twin brother, who should have been celebrating by his side.

"I'm sorry," Harry kept saying, "It wasn't mine to keep, I'm sorry. I obliviated my memory of its location to stop anyone from finding it."

"Well think harder!" George's words had become irrational as the tears coursed down his cheeks, blinding him, and finally someone had pulled him away and cast a light sleeping spell on him, letting him sink against the ground into the bed of moss that he had woken up in the following morning.

"Sometimes if you go back to the same spot where you obliviated yourself, you can restore the memories," Luna was saying, "But regardless, people aren't like limbs or ears... they live on through others. And I know that Fred exists in you now, how can he not? And he wouldn't want to laze around for the rest of his life..."

"What?" George sat upright to look at the younger girl.

"He'd want to keep following his dreams, he wouldn't want to keep hurting. Your memories of him must be so close to a complete set of all of his memories that I'm sure he's with you right now," Luna held out her hands, tracing the shape of a person. She squinted her eyes, "In fact I'm sure I can see two auras around you, even right now."

"No, about oblivation," George said, swinging his feet over the edge of the hammock.

"Oh, when you lose a memory it doesn't just disappear, most times it floats around," Luna explained, "Like a bit of dust on the wind, you can catch them on occasion. Haven't you ever had your thoughts interrupted by an odd bit of information that pops into your head, or an odd sense that you've seen something before?"

"Er, yeah," George admitted.

"Those are memories that people have left just drift out their ears. People do that quite a lot actually," Luna told him earnestly, "Harry's memories might still be drifting around in the woods somewhere."

**A/N: So for this chapter the main characters are George and Luna but I'll update the story info as the chapters go along. Each is going to be written from a new character's POV. Full list includes George, Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Malfoy, and Neville. Somehow almost everyone ends being gay... it just seemed to fit the storyline, though I'm not usually one to write 'everyone is gay' HP fics. **


	2. Ron Is Not Going To Snog Harry

"So let me get this straight, Harry has been enchanted by a spell that he himself cast to protect the stone and a person seeking the stone?" Ron asked looking down at the peaceful expression on Harry Potter's face.

The Chosen One was lying in the grass his arms serenely folded on his chest, looking for all the world like a breathing corpse. According to George the three of them had starting tromping around in the woods looking for the Ressurection Stone so that George could use it to talk to Fred one last time. Ron shook his head, he couldn't believe Harry would agree to such a thing, but then, George had been having the hardest time pulling himself out of the sucking depression that tugged at all of them. George was the one Ron found crying by himself the most often, the one who was pulling away from the rest of the family when the rest of them had become tighter, coming together through shared loss.

Ron had been in his room rereading old quidditch magazines and wondering what everyone else was doing all summer. Never before could he remember summer being so boring, so quiet, so oppressing when Luna's patronus had quietly appeared, a hare hopping across the bed over to him.

"Your brother needs your help, Harry was helping George and fell into a bit of trouble," the hare spoke in Luna's voice.

George hadn't been able to cast a patronus since his twin's death, but then, how could he when every happy memory he had included someone who was dead?  
Ron had climbed out of bed immediately and apparated over to the Hogwarts castle in minutes only to find George and Luna standing next to a peacefully sleeping Harry.

"Huh, looks like he's out of the action for this one," Ron observed wryly.

"Yes, it appears Harry was not so stupid as to simply leave the stone sitting in the woods," Luna observed, "It's a true love enchantment. Only someone who truly loves him can free him from his sleep and reveal the stone. That way a person cannot find the stone alone, they must have someone to guide their heart away from death."

"What?" Ron made a face, that just sounded like something that Luna would make up, except for... Ron kneeled next to his friend. His skin was warm to the touch and he certainly didn't look like he was in pain.

"How am I supposed to help you?" Ron asked, "I love Harry, but I'm definitely not going to snog him, that's pushing the limits of our friendship..."

George grinned, "What and here I was so sure the two of you were special friends..."

He stopped seeing the expression on Ron's face.

"You know Harry best," Luna explained, "Who is the closest to him?"

"Does Harry have a true love?" George asked becoming more serious, folding his arms and pursing his lips and looking uncharacteristically like their older brother Bill.

Ron glanced up at the midday sun. Even in the shade of the trees the heat from the humidity was draining. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and stood up, putting a hand out to the small tree next to him to steady himself.

It would seem to be a simple thing, to utter one word, one name, and save Harry Potter from eternal sleep. Ron knew the answer, but admitting it to himself was hard, to say it outloud, even harder. The truth was Ron was sick of always being second, always having to sacrifice something to help Harry get all the fame. He knew it was immature, he knew it was selfish, he knew that Harry didn't want all that, but it still wore on him. Especially now when it was clear to him that it was he, all along, who was truly the third wheel in their trio of friendship.

Ron had no memories of the night that was apparently full of amusing mishaps, drunken stunts, one-night stands, and declarations of love. He gotten caught up doing shots with his brothers, quickly reached his limit, and blacked out. Thankfully he'd been unbothered and woken up in the morning quite comfortably tucked up against a log.

It had been early, the sun just coming up and the grounds of Hogwarts had been littered with bodies of people in various poses, and there was a fair share of half-dressed unconscious bodies as well.

Seeing Harry and Hermione curled up together had hurt deep down inside. He'd been momentarily stunned, unable to breath, choking on the air that he tried to suck into his lungs. He'd forced himself to turn aside, take step after step away. He would have been lying to himself if he had said he would have never expected it, but he'd managed to convince himself that Hermione would be his some day. He imagined that they'd get beyond their bickering and that he'd be able to confess his feelings to her, but apparently Harry had gotten there first.

The image was burned into his mind, the way Hermione had been snuggled up against Harry's bare chest, their robes only just draped over each other's bodies. The way Harry's arm was protectively holding her close. He'd seen them, and he could never unsee it.

Thankfully the only encounters he'd had with Harry or Hermione since then had been around other people and they hadn't been forced to have any uncomfortable conversations. Ron had been hoping to put that off for as long as possible. It didn't seem like they were officially a couple yet, but it was hard to tell. They were probably getting together privately, without him.

Ron thought back to all the adventures the three of them had shared; in the beginning he'd never considered Hermione as potential girlfriend material, they'd been friends for so long that it had crept up on him. By the time he did start seeing her as the woman she was growing into, other things kept getting in the way like the games they'd played with each other in the sixth year, and how things were maybe getting serious in their horcrux hunting travels until he'd left. He'd left. He knew that he'd hurt Hermione immensely when he'd abandoned his two best friends; maybe that was when it had started between Harry and Hermione.

Ron heaved a sigh and looked over at his brother and Luna and wondered fleetingly when the two of them had become friends. Everyone else but him pairing up, finding new friendships...

"Hermione. You'd better owl Hermione," he told them.

**A/N: Poor Ron, don't get me wrong, I love Ron, but it's so much fun pairing Hermione with other people. So the first piece of the puzzle is revealed, but Ron only knows a tiny part of the whole story. That's why his chapter is short, he blacked out unfortunately and then had the misfortune to sleep late. **


	3. Triggering One's Own Trap

_Rewind to Harry's POV... _

Harry, George, and Luna were standing in the woods outside of the Hogwarts castle. It was quiet this time of year; there were no students enjoying the green lawns, flying around the quidditch pitch, or casting spells from the towers. There was just the gentle hum of cicadas and the occasional flutter of a bird flying from branch to branch.

"So how do I go about finding my memory again?" Harry asked, shoving his glasses up onto his nose as he glanced around uncomfortably. Harry wasn't one to take Luna seriously, but he remembered George's pleading with him that night of the celebrations and felt that he did owe the Weasley something. Perhaps now that George had had a little time he would be able to encounter the stone without succumbing to it. Perhaps now that he seemed to be finding some sort of companionship in Luna, she would be able to keep him grounded to reality.

This reminded him that he had in fact tried to set an enchantment around the resting place of the stone to protect people from such a fate as forgetting to keep living. He had no recollection of what that enchantment might be.

"I should warn you," Harry started, "I do remember placing a protective enchantment on the area near the stone. I don't remember exactly what it does or how it works but it was meant to protect those who might seek the stone."

"That's useful," Harry heard George mutter under his breath.

"Yes, it is," Luna agreed seriously, "If one of us suddenly appears to be enchanted, then we know that we're getting close.

Harry still felt uncertain about this whole thing, his enchantment surely wouldn't hurt anyone, but he didn't like stumbling around aimlessly in the woods. They hadn't crossed over into the Forbidden Forest, the much darker and more heavily wooded and heavily magiced part of the property surrounding Hogwarts, but Harry knew that in any area around Hogwarts one needed to be careful.

He stopped as he recognized a giant old oak tree rising up amidst the surround trees. He stepped around it and looked down at the depression on the other side of the great tree as memories of the festivities came back to him: Sharing wine with Ginny and Hermione, giddy to be alive, giddy to be with two of his best friends. Ron was nowhere to be seen, presumably passed out somewhere already. Harry had seen him doing shots of Fire Whiskey fairly early on the evening.  
He had one arm around Ginny's waist, and another around Hermione's shoulders as the three of them passed a skin of wine back and forth. It was the third, or was it their fourth? Harry had lost track of the how much he'd drank. The alcohol had loosened everyone's inhibitions and he and Ginny's previous attraction to each other was reemerging in the wake of their survival. They'd both known that he wouldn't be able to push her away to protect her forever, and now, what was there to protect her from anyway?

As a new group of wizards struck up some sort of muggle rock music with their instruments Ginny had started moving her thumb back and forth along his thigh, slowly moving her hand up his leg and he'd found that he didn't want her to stop.

"Let's get away from all these drunks," Ginny had declared boldly, standing up with a wobble. She leaned and pushed the hand holding the wine skin against the tree, squirting some wine out, before finding her balance.

Hermione had jumped up as well and hugged Ginny, "Oh yes, I agree."

The music was getting louder and more awful and the sounds of laughter, shouting, drunken sparks being cast from wands, and the occasional vomiting was only slightly marring the beautiful evening. After George's pleading anger Harry had decided to get thoroughly pissed and just forget about everything for one night. After tonight everyone would have plenty of time to feel psychologically distressed about all the events that had conspired, but tonight, tonight was simply for being happy to be alive.

Ginny had hung on Hermione for a moment, and the older girl kissed Ginny's cheek. Harry found himself admiring Hermione; she was always there for him and always holding everyone else together. She was the one who remembered all the little things. He was glad she got along with Ginny too, helping to set her up with Harry (though they were not officially back together as a couple).

The three of them stumbled off into the woods until the sounds of other revelers had faded and collapsed into a shallow depression against a giant old oak tree. The moon was full and bright and they'd sat down in the shadow of the tree, continuing to drink wine.

Hermione's hair was catching the moonlight as it frizzed against its restrains (she had it pulled smartly back into a ponytail) and Harry reached out to touch it, feeling as if the moonlight was making everything float. He took another swig of wine and Hermione caught his hand, and his eyes, then flicked to Ginny's who was sitting behind Harry with her legs to either side of him.

And then Ginny was undoing his robes and kissing his neck, and Harry didn't mind that Hermione was sharing in this moment, in fact, he'd been rather glad...  
Harry blushed remembering that night, parts of it were fuzzy, but it was still all too clear that he'd slept with his best friend and his other best friend's little sister in the same night, at the same time. When he'd woken up in the morning Hermione and Ginny had disappeared but he hadn't been so drunk as to be unable to distinguish dreams from reality. He didn't think his mind would have been able to come up with such a scenario on its own, anyhow.

"Just look for little whisps of smoke," Luna was suggesting, "Clear your mind and open yourself to outside thoughts..."

Harry snorted, opening himself to outside thoughts... that was going to be difficult when all he could think about these days was Hermione. He'd always thought that Hermione and Ron fancied each other and so had made a point to not be interested in the first girl he'd ever been friends with. It wouldn't have been fair somehow if not only was he the boy who lived, the chosen one, the master of death, but also the one who got the girl. He hadn't ever thought that he even had a chance with Hermione until that night...

They hadn't spoken about it but he'd felt closer to her ever since; he'd visited the Burrow a few times over the summer and Ron was always there, so he hadn't been able to be alone with her but he felt that there was an easiness between them that hadn't been there before. He supposed after sharing something so intimate with another person one couldn't help but feel more comfortable. Hermione knew everything about him, she knew all his deepest fears, his hopes, his dreams, and now she couldn't say that she didn't know every inch of his body as well. She'd saved his life so many times, why couldn't he be the one to end up with her? Why couldn't he be her prince, to sweep her off his feet? It was only several days afterward that Harry realized that he was hopelessly crushing on Hermione Granger, and in fact, always had been. He was sure he was even in love with her. His friendship with Hermione was so much deeper than with Ginny. He'd only really known Ginny for a few years; the attraction between him and Ginny was much more on the surface while with Hermione, things went deeper.

"Anything familiar?" George asked and Harry was jolted back to reality. Luna was a spot of sunlight off in front of him to his right and George was still tromping along beside Harry.

"Er, yeah," Harry said, "I definitely remember this part of the woods, I'm sure it must be somewhere over here, maybe just a little further in."

As if one cue Harry felt himself trip over a root and landed on his face in the soft ferns filling this part of the woods. Immediately an odd sensation took over him and as he rolled onto his back the world around him slowly darkened into blackness.

**A/N: And poor Harry too, I didn't realize when I was writing this how this story starts out kind of depressing. Ha ha anyway... Harry is a little OOC but he'd have to be if he thinks he's crushing on Hermione. This triangle is the second premise for this story, the first being the loss that George would feel over his twin. SO more is revealed! Hope you like. :) **


	4. Falling for the Wrong Weasley

Hermione looked around at the three people standing in a protective semi-circle around the sleeping Boy Who Lived. Ron and George looked even more alike the older they got- as time erased the differences of two years. Both looked out of character with solemn broody expressions on their faces. Both stood solidly with their arms crossed, a hint of a frown playing on their lips, a shadow of loss in their eyes. Both tall, but Ron just a little stockier, maybe a centimeter taller. George was lankier and looked odd standing next to his younger brother, odd without that other lanky twin lounging next to him. Odd to see an absence of that playful wicked grin that George's face had never been without when Fred was alive.

Luna stood off a little, distancing herself just a bit from the situation. She appeared to be gazing up at the trees, but her eyes were sharp and Hermione knew that she was carefully attentive to everything that was going on.

She knelt down and touched Harry's face, pulling out her wand to examine the layers of spells that formed the enchantment on Harry. Finally she stood up and shook her head.

"I can't help you, it's a trigger set spell," she explained, "The only way to start and stop the spell is through the pre-determined triggers."

Ron pursed his lips and Luna spared a curious glance at Hermione while George shifted uncomfortably. Hermione sighed, was she the only one who understand the mechanics of how certain enchantments worked?

"Listen, trigger spells are the most powerful type of protective barrier, but they can also be the weakest if you know and have the trigger. Specifically designing a spell with a way to be broken is a lot stronger than a straight-up barrier with no key but only because it's much easier to find the key than to try throwing offensive spells at an enchantment like this," Hermione told them in her best professor voice.

"We understand all that Hermione," Ron interjected, "It's just, we think that, _you're_ the key."

Hermione paused, and then glanced down at Harry, her thoughts flying back to that night, what was it one month, two months? ago. And Ron thought that _she_ would be able to break this enchantment? Not likely.

"Ron..." she started, taking a step towards him. Ron must have seen something for him to assume this; she'd never outwardly shown any sign of being more than friends with Harry. In fact for a long time she'd always believed that she was falling for Ron.

"Don't," he said and Hermione felt a surge of guilt. Up until that night it had seemed to her, and to everyone else, that she and Ron were slowly moving down the path to getting together, falling in love, and getting married, and then the Weasley family could officially welcome her into their fold as one of their own.

"Listen Ron, I'm not in love with Harry," she told him, sparing a glance over at George and Luna. Luna had turned her attention back to Harry and was kneeling in the grass while George watched this interchange with faint curiosity.

"It's no use Hermione, I saw you," Ron said flatly, he met her eyes for a moment, full of resentment, then turned his gaze down and to the side.

Hermione thought back to the morning after; when she'd woken up Ginny had already vanished and Hermione hadn't seen her again until she'd visited to the burrow. Her thoughts had been in state of chaos since then and she'd searched the woods desperately for the other girl, hoping for a chance to talk things over, but Ginny was long gone. Instead she'd tripped over the still sleeping forms of other partiers still dead to the world, noticed Malfoy stumbling around looking like his bladder was about to burst, clearly unaware of the woods around him, and finally returned to the spot she'd spent the night. By then Harry too had disappeared so she hadn't gotten to clear things up with him either and apologize for getting so drunk as to intrude on something that should've been his and Ginny's alone.

Ginny... Ginny Weasley. All along Hermione had thought that it was the male Weasley she was attracted to, that red hair and soft brown eyes, they'd always made her feel safe and comforted. Always put her at ease, always reminded her of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Sure when they hugged she always felt that he was a little too tall and broad for her taste, when she ran a hand across his chest she felt that there was something missing between the two of them, but she'd never delved deeply into her own personal feelings before. Not until that night.

As the three of them sat underneath that tree out in the woods Hermione had met Ginny's eyes and felt a jolt of electricity, and a strong sense of familiarity and rightness about there being together that night. Sure, Harry was there as well, but Hermione was willing to put up with that as the price for being with Ginny.

When Ginny's fingers had started undoing Harry's robes in front of her she'd at first wanted to run and excuse herself, but Ginny's gaze held her locked in place. Harry had reached over and started tugging off her own robes and then Ginny was leaning across Harry towards Hermione and it was like being underwater, like everything was happening in slow motion.

She'd closed her eyes and leaned forward to meet Ginny's kiss and it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted. She could barely remember Harry's participation, her mind was filled with Ginny's ivory skin, pale and beautiful in the moonlight, her fiery red hair like a beacon in the night. Her eyes wide, nervous, excited, that deep chocolate brown of the woods. Hermione had never known such little touches could stir such feelings in her, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe she was high on the happiness and relief of being done with Lord Voldemort, or maybe she'd been falling for the wrong Weasley all along.

She knew now that it was the female Weasley that had always been the object of her attraction; she'd simply applied those feelings to Ron, not realizing that it was even possible to fall in love with another girl.

She looked into Ron's eyes, Ron's eyes who reminded her of his younger sister and felt a blush of shame. He must not have seen Ginny there with her and Harry, or else this conversation would have started rather differently than it had. What must he think of her now, for her to admit she didn't love Harry but had slept with him instead of Ron?

"It's not what it seems like," she argued, knowing that these words could only lower her image in Ron's eyes.

"Either you're in love with Harry, which I can forgive you for," Ron said carefully, "Or you slept with him without a care in the world as to who might see or who you might hurt. You didn't think that it would hurt me, to see _you,_ Hermione, with someone else? Were you just playing with mine _and_ Harry's feelings?"

Hermione looked down, not sure if it was her place to let Ron know that it hadn't been just her and Harry. Harry surely was still in love with Ginny and Ginny in love with him; Hermione had just been a drunken companion, a random side interest in the celebrations of the night.

"It's complicated," she admitted, "And I haven't talked to Harry, but I have no reason to believe that he and Ginny are not getting back together."

"I have reason to believe they won't be getting back together, and that reason is you," Ron accused; Hermione could see the smoldering flames in his eyes, that Weasley anger. In Ron's case it was slow to build, and even slower to go out. All of that resentment, all of their miscommunications, were building this moment to become the climax of all their fumbles and mishaps. At least Hermione wouldn't have to explain to him that she wouldn't be marrying him and living happily ever after, at least his seeing her and Harry solved that problem. But there was still more to explain.

"Listen, that night, those celebrations..." Hermione began, "We were all drunk, just letting loose and having fun, Harry and I both know that it was nothing more than just some fooling around between friends."

Or at least Hermione hoped that Harry knew it was just fooling around between friends. She had heard from neither Ginny nor Harry about their imminent coupling but considering that night she was sure that their feelings for each other had remained unchanged during the hunt for horcruxes. Of course Ginny still had one more year of school and Hermione was joining her in order to take her NEWTS. At the end of the summer Ron and Harry were going to join the Auror department to finish hunting down the last of the Death Eaters- the last remaining traces of Voldemort's influence.

"And me?" Ron asked darkly. A faint breeze tickled around in little circles picking up the odd petal left over from spring and for a moment relieving some of the heavy humidity. In the distance the occasional bird could be heard but for the most part the creatures of the wood seemed quite content to sleep away the day's heat, leaving them in relative silence.

"You've always been my best friend Ron, just the same as Harry," Hermione said, pleading with him to forgive her. She took a step towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off sharply and turned to the side, "Except Harry is a best friend you'll sleep with when you're drunk? Should I try and get you drunk and then maybe you'll sleep with me?"

She slapped him across the face then turned and collapsed to her knees, tears leaking down her cheeks despite her attempt to stop them.

"No, that was a one time thing, I'm not going to sleep with you Ron, you OR Harry," Hermione cried out, "I don't want either of you!"

"Thanks for making that clear now," Ron said sarcastically.

"You'd better go ahead and summon Ginny," Hermione said forcing herself to her feet, ignoring Ron and looking at George.

But Ron wasn't done, and he yelled, "I'm just having a hard time forgiving you for doing something like this to the three of us. The friendship we had, do you think we can just go back to that with something like this between us?" His fists were clenched and Hermione only dared a brief glance at his eyes.

"I KNOW! I know," Herimone cried out, feeling the clench of her guilt at using Harry, "I'm sorry, alright. I'm sorry! I'm just, I'm more concerned with what I might have done to Ginny and Harry's relationship right now!"

"Oh, what? Now I'm the one who's being selfishly concerned about the wrong things? You don't think I'm mad about that too? Admitting it doesn't make it any better!" Ron accused, she could tell things were quickly out of hand. Her own angers and frustrations were building, this whole thing was such a mess.

"Leading me on! Sleeping with Harry! And you say you don't want either of us? Some best friend you are!" Ron was screaming.

There was a loud pop as Ginny apparated into the woods and right in the middle of Hermione and Ron's screaming match. The two continued throwing accusations at each other.

"I think you're being a little hypocritical Ron," Ginny said sharply after enduring a minute of Ron and Hermione's fighting. This statement caused both of them to fall silent and glare over at her, on the verge of taking her down with them for interrupting.

"It's not like you're all pure and chaste and above one night stands either," Ginny told her brother, then smirked at both Hermione and Ron's dumbstruck reactions.

**A/N: Bwahaha. The charade continues. Can't have a Harry Potter story without at least one screaming match between Hermione and Ron right? Thanks for reading, share this story with your friends!**


	5. So, WHO does love Harry Potter?

Ginny apparated straight into the middle of a class one screaming match between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Not that this was entirely unusual; everyone had climbed through the portrait hole in the common room to find those two fighting at least once during their years at Hogwarts. It was the content that was rather surprising.

Despite herself she found herself smiling to hear that Hermione was not in love with Harry; it'd been a calculated risk, a desperate ploy when she'd pulled Hermione into a threesome with her and Harry. She knew Harry would be down, he was a boy, and drunk boys were usually fairly easy to manipulate and predict. He would go along with it. But she didn't know if Hermione would stay, or if she would scare Hermione off. All she knew is that she wanted Hermione, wanted Hermione more than anyone else that night. And she didn't even know if Hermione would go for girls, so she had used Harry as the in between.  
Ron should be screaming at _her_, but it appeared that Ron had only come upon Harry and Hermione after Ginny had slipped off in guilt and regret earlier in the morning.

Kissing Hermione was just the way she'd always imagined it would be; Hermione approached kissing the way she approached everything, with bold curiosity. She didn't shy away when Ginny leaned forward to press her lips against the other girl's, instead she kissed Ginny back, letting her lips discover the gentle curves of Ginny's mouth.

Ginny had suspected she was a lesbian from somewhere around her third year at Hogwarts. Harry was the only boy she'd ever crushed on and it had started off as the stereotypical school girl crush, out of all the boys she knew who did she like the most? Harry Potter of course, who wouldn't?

When Hermione had encouraged her to relax and just start being herself she'd been able to start to form a friendship with Harry, a friendship that she greatly valued. Harry was even more the hero than she could have imagined, her hero many times over. But that time she spent with Hermione, talking about the ins and outs of relationships, laughing over the stupidity of boys, those moments she treasured more over any moment with any boy she'd ever been with. It wasn't until the festivities after the battle, the drunken revelry that she'd gotten up the courage to admit to herself that she wanted Hermione Granger. Wanted her like she'd never wanted anything or anyone else ever before.

And besides, it wasn't like she was pulling Hermione away from Ron. Not when Ron was clearly very interested and involved with another certain someone. No, it was clear to her that Hermione would not be ending up with Ron, and the wine had freed her of all her other inhibitions.

Earlier on in the night while Hermione and Harry had sat off with Neville and their other year mates Ginny had watched with wry amusement as Ron (after doing shots with his brothers) had proceeded to get into a drinking match with Draco Malfoy.

The two boys had quickly gotten rough and roudy with each other, and she'd noted how they'd moved off to go from an arm wrestling match to a precariously unstable wizarding duel with wands that half-heartedly let spells dribble out in response the alcohol saturated slurs and mumbles of the boys. When she'd finally turned away they'd forgone all pretenses and were fiercely making out with each other, already shirtless, having long ago lost their robes somewhere around the arm wrestling.

So no, even if Draco Malfoy wasn't Ron's true love, it had been increasingly obvious to her that her brother was gay. He may think he loved Hermione Granger, but it was only when other guys were around that her brother adopted that goofy showing off mannerism that all boys did when around romantic interests. Strutting, puffing out their chests- Ron was quite blithely unaware of his own actions and Ginny was glad that he finally got a chance to let out his homosexual tendencies. Only, it seemed that his heavy alcohol intake had caused him to black out and forget all this...

Ginny heaved a sigh, of course Ron would go and _forget_ hooking up with Draco Malfoy. The idiot. She rolled her eyes.

"I think you're being a little hypocritical Ron," Ginny informed him, interrupting his and Hermione's shouting match, "It's not like you're all pure and chaste and above one night stands either."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron said fiercely while Hermione turned to look at him furious and questioning.

"I saw you with Draco Malfoy," Ginny told him simply, adopting her best Molly Weasley tone, "You may not remember it, but you were quite clearly not thinking at all of Hermione that night, Ronald Bilius Weasley. So don't you go accusing her of acting senselessly."

Ginny noted Hermione biting back a smile and had to force herself to tear her eyes away from the girl. In the summer heat Hermione was mostly in muggle clothes, light khaki shorts and a brown tank underneath a light summer cloak that hugged her body closely in the humidity. In the yellow green light filtering down through the trees her eyes were a bright sharp amber, her hair was frizzing out, straining from the hair tie that attempted to hold back the mess. It gave the impression of a large cat, its back arched and all puffed out in an attempt to look fierce.

Ron was sputtering denials and Ginny pointed her wand at his head, "Retrievalia!"

Almost instantly Ron was on his knees, mouth agape, as the black veil created by the alcohol lifted and the nights events came back to him.

"Well, I think that resolves _that_ argument!" Ginny said turning to Hermione, George, and Luna while Ron was still muttering, "No, I wouldn't, Malfoy, not possible..."

George was looking at his brother in surprise while Luna didn't look surprised at all.

"I'm glad they've stopped shouting, that was rather unpleasant," she admitted.

"Well Gin, can you wake Harry?" George asked.

Then it was Ginny's turn to look awkward and she shook her head moving her gaze to the smooth trunk of a cherry tree, "I too spent that night rather foolishly, I too acted in ways I might not have on any other night, but I don't regret one moment of it because I _was_ with the person that I love. And that person is not Harry Potter."

She carefully moved her gaze back to Hermione to see the girl staring at her with surprise intermingled with, could it be, hope? She let herself smile, just barely, and in return saw Hermione's eyes turn up in a tentative smile.

Ginny's heart leapt and it was all she could do to not run over to the other girl immediately. Hermione was the only one who knew just what Ginny meant by that statement, and Hermione Granger was clearly not upset by this admission.

"So, WHO does love Harry Potter?" George asked loudly in frustration.

"Who cares?" Ron asked and pulled out his wand to cast his patronus, "I'm summoning Malfoy here right now to deny what Ginny has accused. This is just ridiculous."

**A/N: Even though Ron remembers it now, he doesn't believe his own memories. He's sure Ginny just planted them. **


	6. Why weren't you returning my owls, Ron?

"You haven't been returning my owls all summer Weasley, now you have me summoned here, to Hogwarts, what's going on?" Malfoy appeared on the scene practically spitting, his pale eyes narrowed as he took in the number of people gathered around Harry Potter.

Granger and the smallest Weasley standing close but not touching, Loony Lovegood's eyes following something in the air that no one else could see, the Weasley Twin Number Two was stoic, waiting, and Ron looked torn between being furiously angry and hopelessly lost.

"Ron says he blacked out," the little Weasley suggested, when it became apparent that Ron had nothing to say for himself.

Malfoy snorted and walked over to Ron and grabbed his robes, giving the other boy a pointed look before looking around at everyone else.

"Think this is funny do you?" he asked shoving Ron away, "Brought me here so that you could giggle about me?"

Malfoy had longed to be able to prove himself ever since he was a small child. He'd always wanted to live beyond his father's expectations, live up to the high standard that had been set, but somehow he was always below par. By the time he was in his later years at Hogwarts he wasn't even sure who exactly he was trying to prove himself to. His lowest points came when he was huddled in the leaky bathroom crying out all his secrets to a ghost, of all people. In the end, his parents held him close, the three of them were just happy to be alive and together. He no longer felt the need to prove anything to his father, but there was still the rest of the wizarding world.

He'd finally come to terms with his sexuality, it had been just one more thing for people to tease him about long after the words "amazing bouncing ferret" finally faded from the halls of Hogwarts. Now that the Dark Lord was vanquished it was time for Malfoy to make a name for himself in the world, but he hadn't exactly planned on starting with Ron Weasley.

It had slowly dawned on him that the Weasley family held more respect than the Malfoy family in many parts of the wizarding world. For many years he had tried to take out his jealousy of the loving family the Weasley kids had, of the easy happiness they all shared by pointing out their shabbiness, their general disregard for status and money, the disorderly chaos that they lived in. These were all things he had, the only things he had really, and it was the only way he make himself feel better about the things he didn't have. How he had always longed for brothers and sisters to share secrets with, to wrestle with, to play games and tease and prank each other.

So it was only natural for him to be drawn to the one Weasley his own age, only natural for all that spite and jealousy and rage to be taken out on him to hide the inevitable attraction. Somehow as he'd gotten older the attraction had turned more than friendly and Malfoy had tried even harder to cover this up. Ron was all fire, wild red hair, wild anger, while Malfoy was all ice, cool and collected. When they'd gotten thoroughly pissed together it had been Ron who had pointed this out to Malfoy, that Malfoy was like a cooling effect on him, while he said that he could see himself bringing warmth into Malfoy's eyes. After they'd drank, and fought, and fucked and were laying together, resting back against an old log tucked away in the woods staring up at the moonlight. All of Malfoy's insecurities had come pouring out and Ron instead of laughing, had opened up in turn and shared his own. And now he was claiming to not remember any of it?

"So it did happen," Ron whispered and Malfoy turned his gaze back to the red-headed boy.

"Remember now?" Malfoy asked seeing the change in Ron's gaze, the anger melting away to that same Ron he'd shared himself with that night several weeks ago. Malfoy leaned forward and kissed Ron gently on the lips to remind him and let him know that he at least, still felt the same.

Then he rounded on everyone else, "And don't you all go saying anything about either of us both being men, I won't even let you start on that. All the most ancient wizarding families have always found honor and pride in loving other men. Only a true man can ever know the kind of love shared between men. Muggleborns like that other half of you could never understand that!"

"I understand quite fine, actually," Granger interjected. Malfoy looked at the muggleborn girl, her hair was about as frizzy as he could ever remember seeing it. And for the first time he noticed that Potter wasn't just lying on the ground because he felt like it but that Potter was the center of attention here.

"What happened to the Chosen One?" Malfoy inquired, changing the subject as he realized no one really cared about him and Ron. He felt Ron grab his hand, felt their fingers intertwine, heard Ron whisper so softly that only he could hear, "I'm sorry."

"He triggered an enchantment that has put him into an eternal sleep that can only be broken by his one true love," Lovegood said dreamily. Malfoy raised an eyebrow, and looked to the others for confirmation. Granger was nodding, the Weasley girl was watching Granger, and that other Weasley- dammit, he was going to have to start calling them by their first names- George was staring fiercely down at Potter.

"And what am I doing here then really, if none of you care about me and Ron?" Malfoy asked, "I hope you don't expect _me _to go and make out with him."

"Er sorry yeah, its kind of complicated but I was being stupid about things and Ginny threw it in my face, I guess she knew about us, and so I summoned you to confirm it..." Ron trailed off.

"So I'm guessing that neither Hermione nor Ginny are Potty's true loves?" Malfoy wondered, a little surprised at this news. He always thought that it would only be too perfectly funny for Harry Potter to end up with that Granger girl, though she certainly hadn't ended up as awkward and bucktoothed as she'd been as a firstie.

"How did everyone end up out here then?" he asked, wondering what in Merlin's beard had prompted Harry to go cavorting around the Hogwarts grounds in the middle of the summer on a hot day like this?

"I was looking for the Ressurection Stone," George admitted, "Luna convinced Harry to come along and help us find it."

The Resurrection Stone. So those rumors were true then, Potter was the Master of Death. And George, of course he wanted it for his twin, but this was still a funny sort of enchantment to befall someone in these woods.

"Harry put the enchantment on the area near the stone, to make sure whoever was looking for it had someone alive to pull them back from the stone's promises," Luna continued to explain, seeing Malfoy's confusion.

And so the train of summoning, Malfoy worked out the pattern. He had simply been a distraction then, some side argument that must have come up. However, he might surprise them with a piece of information they clearly hadn't stumbled upon yet.

He'd woken up late the morning after but not so late that Ron wasn't still sound asleep. After being careful not to wake the gently snoring Ron he'd wandered off in search of a place to relieve himself, trying to find a bush that was not occupied by a couple or two. There were even a few people still awake and drinking, playing one last round of wizarding snap or drunkenly trying to find their way up to the castle.  
He'd seen their savior fast asleep all alone, half clothed, underneath an old oak tree and paused for a moment. Had he had no companion that night? Perhaps he hadn't been the only one watching and wondering because Neville Longbottom had stepped over to Harry's unconscious form and gently pulled his cloak up over him and smoothed his hair back from his face in a tender gesture before sitting up to gaze lovingly at the Boy Who Lived.

Malfoy had shrugged and continued on, finally relieving himself beneath a willow near a creek, before making his way make to look for Ron. To his dismay Ron had clearly woken up and moved off. He'd searched around for a bit but couldn't find a sign of that red-haired Weasley and finally he'd apparated home for a shower and breakfast.

"I'd try summoning Neville Longbottom," he told everyone with a knowing smirk.

**A/N: Getting close to the end, only two more chapters left I think! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! **


	7. Harry trusted Neville with Everything

Neville Longbottom came walking through the woods onto the little scene within minutes of receiving Malfoy's patronus. His eyes brushed passed George and Luna, Hermione and Ginny, Ron and Malfoy, and immediately to the Boy Who Lived. This scene so similar to the one when he'd found Harry six weeks ago the morning after the long night of festivities. Except this time his breathing was a little too even, his position a little too stiff. Neville's heart went out to him.

Harry Potter had made Neville Longbottom who he was today. Neville had learned of the prophecy, learned that Harry's fate could have been his own, learned that almost by random chance the weight of the wizarding world had landed on Harry. And that was only the start of what Harry Potter had done for him.

In their first year when Harry had told him, "You're worth twelve Malfoys" Neville had been his, completely and utterly. In the battle at the Department of Mysteries he had been the only one left standing still at Harry's side. And in the final battle at Hogwarts it had been Neville whom Harry had trusted with that final and all important task of killing the last Horcrux. Had Neville failed all would have been lost.

That kind of trust, Neville knew that you didn't get that from just anyone, and he also knew that this was because Harry knew that the kind of commitment and bravery that Neville had was something you didn't see every day either. When he'd pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat it had finally proven to the rest of the world these things that previously only Harry had recognized in him. Neville would be forever in Harry's debt for bringing out the true Gryffindor in him.

Neville didn't care if Harry Potter ended up marrying some girl, Ginny, Hermione, or anyone else. He didn't care if Harry Potter was gay, straight, or even asexual. He didn't care that the few relationships he had somehow stumbled into had been shallow and both had ended with the other person leaving him for his inability to commit to something deeper. His heart belonged to the Boy Who Lived and forever would. Neville had committed his life to being by Harry's side, his second man, the one man Harry could trust completely with any task, the one who would always be watching out for him. He didn't ever expect Harry to give him anymore than that. It would be asking for too much, wouldn't it?

He listened as George explained how Harry had been helping him to refind the Ressurection Stone, trying not to feel anger at the silliness of such a thing, at putting to waste all of Harry's work at trying to break the power of the three Deathly Hallows, end the cycle of blood and destruction of the Elder Wand, hide forever the false hope of bringing loved ones back to life. Did George seek to end all of Harry Potter's work to make the world a better place?

He listened as Ginny explained how neither she nor Hermione loved Harry in that way, how everyone standing here loved Harry Potter, but to not love him 'in that way'. They all expected something in return from him, they all wanted things from him. And they explained how only someone who truly loved him could kiss him awake again.

Neville didn't give it a second thought, ignoring the gazes of the other witches and wizards around him he knelt down next to the Chosen One, the Master of Death and took the other boy's hand into his own. Harry's hand was cool despite the stifling heat of the day, only just starting to fade as afternoon crept into evening. The cicadas chirps were half-hearted and tired and faded from Neville's awareness as he looked lovingly at Harry's face.

He reached his other hand out and moved Harry's bangs away from his face as he had that morning those weeks ago. And then he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against Harry's until he felt Harry's lips move in response to his own, felt Harry's fingers tighten on his hand, and felt Harry's eyelashes brush against his as his eyes fluttered open.

"Neville?" he asked wonderingly, his voice a little hoarse from the hours of his sleep. He cleared his throat and pushed himself into a sitting position. Neville watched as Harry's eyes moved from person to person, bewilderment crossing his face.

"You triggered your own protective enchantment," Neville explained, "You'd placed a true love enchantment on the area around the stone, to make sure that anyone who sought out the stone would have someone alive to pull them back from the promise of death."

Harry looked at the faces around him again, his eyes lingering on Hermione, and then Ginny as the implications of their presence sunk in. Curiously, tentatively he met Neville's eyes again.

"And you're..."

"I am the only one amongst your friends who harbors true love for you," Neville explained, not wanting to say that he was Harry Potter's true love.

Harry looked over at Hermione and Ginny again, Neville followed his gaze and noted that the two girls had quietly laced their fingers together. Harry's face looked a little sad, but he didn't look heartbroken, so perhaps he had not been in love with either of them after all. Harry seemed to ponder over things for a few moments then carefully, with Neville's sturdy arm, eased himself to his feet.

He shook out his arms and legs and then ran a hand through his air and looked at everyone apologetically, "Sorry for being the cause of all this..."

There were varying degrees of denials at Harry having caused any trouble at all and Harry finally turned back to George.

"I guess I won't have to remember where the stone was," he said and pulled it out of his pocket where the enchantment had placed it upon his awakening. He held the ring the stone was set in out to George and dropped it into his hands. George nodded solemnly and put the ring into his own pocket. Luna stepped over to his side and took George's hand reassuringly.

Neville felt a burst of pride at the caring nature of Harry Potter, but couldn't help but wonder what the fate of the stone would be after George had had his goodbyes.

**A/N: Share with your friends if you like! Normally I'm not a Harry/Neville shipper, but it seemed to fit in this story. **


	8. There Is Still One Person Who Needs You

Luna and George waited until the rest of the crowd slowly disappeared in ones and twos. Finally only Harry was left and he paused for a moment, uncertainly.

"Take care George," he said, "And the stone, don't tell me where you put it or what you do with it, okay?"

"Okay," George agreed and Harry gave a little nod then turned on his heel to apparate away with a faint pop.

Luna looked at the boy with only half a soul, noted his hand in his pocket, fingering the small ring. He turned and looked at her, only half seeming to remember her presence.

"Do you want to be alone with him?" Luna asked.

"No, stay," George told her without looking at her. His mind was already elsewhere, but then again so was Luna's.

A gentle nudge between her shoulder blades alerted her to the presence of the thestrals, some of her favorite companions for her days at Hogwarts when no one else had a moment for her. She sighed happily and turned to rub the young thestral that had bumped her between his eyes.

The talk and thoughts of death had probably attracted them, the odd creatures that they were. Many people thought of them like vultures, scavengers that feasted on the pain and blood that surrounded death. Luna wasn't quite so sure, she thought there was something more to the thestrals, some ancient lost story...

Luna had always found herself to be more aware of the spiritual world that existed in tandem with this one and as she'd grown older she'd learned just how strange people thought she was. She figured that perhaps only part of her mind and soul was in the real world as people thought of it. But she enjoyed it, and so she took the teasing in stride and wrapped herself in a protective bubble of oddity and quirks that kept out other people's opinions of her. More often than not she was lost in her thoughts, lost in watching the river of light that flowed just below the surface, listening to the little thoughts and whispers that floated by, distracted by the little spirits and creatures that roamed the castle's halls and fluttered through the trees.

Like the thestrals she found herself attracted to those people who had experienced something different, those people who had felt some loss or experienced something traumatic. Maybe she felt something in common with them, or maybe she was curious to explore the wisdom that these people had gained from the world.

George was someone who had mostly existed below her radar before the final Battle of Hogwarts. He had already carved a niche for himself in this world, him and his brother. They functioned as a single unit and Luna had categorized them that way in her mind, the twins. They claimed to want people to acknowledge them as individuals but Luna knew that this was mostly just talk, they themselves almost saw themselves as one.

Now though, George's presence had called to her like a black hole. As he lingered in the woods between their two houses she'd found herself wandering towards his presence, towards that strange little gap in the world. And she'd found a boy with only half a soul.  
She stared at this boy, the boy who had no patronus, the boy with a dead brother, the boy with only one ear...  
He was turning the ring over in his hands, pain and hope filling his eyes. Luna didn't see anything but she saw the instant change in George, saw George fall to his knees, speaking words, words that Luna couldn't make out. She watched as a light seemed to fill George, as tears started streaming down his face. The moment seemed last through infinity, but when George fell to his hands and knees it seemed that barely a minute had passed.

Luna stepped over to him and kneeled down in front of him and grasped his hands in her own, she turned them over and looked at the bits of dirt that held to his skin. Then she looked up at his eyes, bright with tears of joy and sorrow.  
She touched the single tear that was still moving down his cheek and lifted it away from his face. George's other hand went to the hole of his lost ear.

"You can still hear him, can't you?" she asked looking at the ugly scar that was all that was left surrounding the dark pit.  
George nodded. Luna reached over and placed a hand on his heart, "Two hearts beat here now, instead of one."

Luna herself had not drank any alcohol that night of the celebrations. Instead she had climbed up to the top of a tree and let the tree's branches embrace her body while her soul soared high above the celebrations, high on the energy and euphoria of the night, riding the emotions of so many living beings, enjoying feeling the twists and turns of all her fellow students, the professors, graduates, and families. She'd watched as so many of them had discovered the true paths of their hearts, seen something new in people they'd never really seen before, discovered faded trails that might not be, watched as some people lost themselves and others found themselves.

Today she saw many of those threads and paths carefully come together in these critical moments, carefully untangle themselves and reach their destinations. She smiled to herself as she stared up that space beyond George.

Luna was sure she had everything figured out until George leaned forward and delicately kissed her. Somehow this path had remained as invisible to her as the thestral to someone who has never seen death. This path of someone who has never experienced love for herself, but only watched.

"Mm," she said thoughtfully letting herself exhale. When she breathed in again she could feel George's breath mingling with her own. His face was still close to her, his nose just barely touching hers. This close his features lost their focus, except for the light glinting from his eyes, so pale she wasn't sure whether they were blue or green. She reached up and ran a finger along the line of his jaw then pressed her lips curiously to his for a second kiss.

**A/N: Sorry I took so long in getting this last chapter up. Started an internship a few months ago and have been super distracted. But here it is! The End! **


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